Shoto stood still for a moment, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His once vibrant green eyes had now faded to an eerie white, glowing faintly in the dim light. His gaze locked onto Tetsuya, the scarred figure standing tall before him, calm and unmoving. Shoto's lips curled into a low growl, the tension between them crackling like static in the air.
Tetsuya's scarred neck caught the light as he tilted his head slightly, his toned, battle-worn body appearing as a monument of endurance. The dull expression on his face hadn't changed—just like the first time they had clashed.
Without warning, Shoto lunged forward, his muscles tensing as he drove his fist into Tetsuya's gut with full force. The impact was solid, but Tetsuya didn't flinch. He simply stared down at Shoto with the same impassive gaze, the faintest trace of disappointment in his eyes.
A blur of motion caught Shoto's attention as Neko, the ever-watchful feline, leaped gracefully from the rooftop, landing briefly on Shoto's shoulder before darting to the door. The talking cat turned back to observe the fight, his expression sharp and calculating.
Shoto's frustration boiled over. He pulled his fist back again, his entire body flexing as he delivered a blow with everything he had. The punch connected, and this time, Tetsuya's body skidded backward across the cracked pavement, leaving faint trails of dust in the air.
Tetsuya dropped to one knee, his hand lightly pressing against his gut, but he quickly stood again, his expression unchanging. "Still unfazed…" Shoto muttered through clenched teeth.
Above them, Neko let out a small grunt of frustration. "Tch. Shoto doesn't have time for this… He needs to finish it now."
For a brief moment, the two fighters stood still, their eyes locked as the intensity of the standoff deepened.
Shoto roared in defiance and charged again, aiming to land another powerful strike. But this time, Tetsuya moved first. His fist shot forward with startling speed, slamming into Shoto's face and sending him flying backward. Shoto hit the ground hard, sliding across the dirt-strewn schoolyard.
Tetsuya remained in his striking pose for a moment before straightening. He cast a glance at Neko, irritation flickering in his eyes. "Is that cat their school mascot or something?" he muttered under his breath. "Whatever… maybe I should just—wait. What the hell?"
Shoto slowly pushed himself to his feet, a strange grin spreading across his face. Instead of retaliating, he abruptly covered his face and began rolling on the ground like a petulant child throwing a tantrum.
Tetsuya's brow twitched as he watched the bizarre scene unfold. "You've got to be kidding me…" He let out an exasperated sigh and sat down, slouching against a crumbling wall. "I'll wait. Take your time."
Shoto eventually stopped rolling and climbed back to his feet, his expression shifting to one of rage. Letting out a guttural roar that echoed across the abandoned schoolyard, he charged forward with renewed energy.
This time, he feinted a direct approach, suddenly veering to the left and delivering a powerful kick aimed at Tetsuya's face. The attack connected, but Tetsuya didn't budge. Instead, he grabbed Shoto's leg in midair with a vice-like grip.
With a flick of his wrist, Tetsuya hurled Shoto back across the yard, sending him skidding across the ground.
But Shoto refused to stay down. He caught his balance mid-slide and dashed forward again, leaping high into the air before driving another powerful kick into the side of Tetsuya's head.
The impact finally drew blood. A thin crimson line trailed down from Tetsuya's temple, but his stoic expression remained unchanged. He crouched slightly from the blow, yet his body betrayed no sign of weakness.
Neko's feline eyes widened in surprise as he watched the exchange. A smirk crept onto his face. "Well, now… maybe this isn't such a waste of time after all."
Tetsuya touched the fresh wound on his head, inspecting the blood on his fingertips. His gaze remained cold, his body still and unyielding as if Shoto's attacks were nothing more than an annoyance.
Shoto roared once more, his scream reverberating through the junk-filled yard like a war cry. The intensity of the moment grew, Tetsuya stood motionless for a moment, his scarred features bathed in the dim light. Slowly, he clenched his fist, his expression hardening into something darker. He looked down at Shoto, his voice calm but carrying a weight of finality.
"Tetsuya is not my name," he began, his tone sharp enough to cut through the tension. "My name is Shoei. Invincible Shoei."
Shoto, however, wasn't listening. His bloodshot white eyes locked onto Shoei as his muscles tensed. Without a word, he charged forward and swung his fist in a wide arc, aiming for Shoei's gut.
But Shoei didn't dodge. He met Shoto's attack head-on, his fist colliding with Shoto's mid-punch. The force of the impact sent a shockwave rippling through the air. Shoto's knuckles buckled under the pressure, the skin bruising and swelling almost instantly.
"Argh!" Shoto reeled his fist back, clutching it as pain shot through his arm. His frustration boiled over, and, in a bizarre twist, he threw himself to the ground once more, rolling around like a tantrum-throwing child. His wails filled the air, and his face contorted in exaggerated rage.
Shoei stared at him, his dull expression slowly twisting into irritation. His fists clenched tighter, his patience wearing thin. "This little—" he muttered under his breath, his voice brimming with anger.
But before Shoei could finish his thought, Shoto sprang back into action. Rising to one knee, he launched a sudden uppercut with all his strength. The blow connected with Shoei's jaw, the impact lifting the scarred man off his feet.
Shoei hit the ground hard, dust rising around him as he landed flat on his back. For a brief moment, he blinked in disbelief, his usually stoic face showing a flicker of surprise. Blood began to trickle from a fresh cut on his forehead, running down the side of his face.
Shoto, his breathing heavy and his body trembling, roared once again. The veins in his arms bulged, his muscles tightening to the point where it seemed they might burst. His raw power was undeniable, but it bordered on reckless fury.
Shoei slowly sat up, wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hand. He pressed his fingers to his jaw, testing its movement, and rose to his feet. For the first time in the battle, he felt the sting of pain—a sting that ignited a spark of anger in him.
"This…" he muttered, his voice low and sharp. "This is starting to piss me off."
His eyes narrowed as he stared down the roaring Shoto, the intensity in the air reaching a boiling point. The battle was far from over, and for the first time, Shoei's invincible façade seemed to crack ever so slightly.